With Death, Life
by Riding Cloud
Summary: Alanna comes to terms with her brother's death, and meets Arram Draper.  A little AJ just because I can. Rated for safety.
1. Catacombs

A/N: Anything you recognize is TPs. Anything you dont is mine.

Alanna, the Lioness of Tortall, King's Champion, Bazhir shaman, wept without shame. The cold flagstone beneath her knees made the scrapes and bruises on her legs throbbed in the back of her mind--she had forgotten to heal them herself. The pain barely registered, miniscule against the quiet disintegration of a part of her heart. Thom was dead. Dead. She didn't want to believe it, couldn't believe it, yet knew it. She looked inside herself and saw, tucked away and guarded, the rust colored Gift that flickered inside, a ball of fire separate from the purple she recognized as her own. Thom's gift. And Roger's, his magic, corrupting Thom's, KILLING Thom. A part of her wanted to rid herself of that magic, rid herself of Roger, but she couldn't bring herself to do so. Thom, her twin, who she knew so well and who knew her so well in return, was dead--and that was all that was left of him.

It had been four days since the bloody Coronation Battle. Four days of grieving, first in disbelief, then in anger, now in pure sadness. Jon had been unable to console her, George unable to make her even smile. Thayet hadn't even tried. She knew what it was like to lose someone you loved and be absolutely unable to prevent it. Alanna had slept through the first day, physically and mentally exhausted, and been in the healer's wing for the next two, burying herself in blood and bandages until Duke Baird had threatened a Court order banning her from the wing until she got some rest. Unable even to find peace in Moonlight Alanna had found herself here, with the bodies waiting to be entombed in the catacombs. Liam. Thom. Roger. Dozens of soldiers and footmen whose names she never knew, but whose bravery had saved hundreds of others. The rebels had been piled outside. Some of the nobles' bodies had been ransomed by their families. Si'cham's sent back to the City of the Gods for a burial in their temple. Closing her eyes, Alanna felt a comforting weight on her shoulder and reached her hand up absently to brush thin air. Faithful. He had gone, too. Back to the Goddess. Alanna was alone, more alone than she had ever felt before.


	2. Love

Alanna woke suddenly. Bright light sheared through the white drapes and across her bed. _Her bed!_ She couldn't remember returning there last night. The last thing she remembered was feeling so sleepy, of lying down at the base of the rock table that held her brother's deathly pale body. Two short raps on her door, a pause, then a third. _Jon_, Alanna thought, and almost smiled remembering their secret knock code from her days as his squire. 

"Come in," she said wearily, unwilling to move. The door creaked open, a familiar head poking through the opening. His black hair was mussed, normally sparkling blue eyes tinged in a gray sadness that hadn't been there a week before. He looked at her searchingly.

"You fell asleep in the catacombs last night. We couldn't find you, until one of the maids said she thought she saw you go down there. I—you were sleeping but I—I thought you died. Had—killed yourself. Even when I carried you back, you didn't wake up." His quiet voice caught, the pain flashing over his face briefly as he looked at her. "Gods Alanna, after all this… I couldn't lose you too." He slipped into the room, closing the door and in three great strides had her in his arms. Alanna buried her face in his shoulder, gripping at the dark, nearly midnight blue tunic he wore, barely noticing that her own shoulder was damp with Jon's tears. He pulled away, looked at her harshly, and softened when he saw the sadness in her face.

"Jon…I'm sorry. I wouldn't…I'd never…I didn't mean to scare you. I'd been with Duke Baird all day. I guess I was more tired than I thought," Alanna whispered. She suddenly realized how close he was, leaning over her like that, looking at her with eyes that were slowly beginning to lose their gray sadness and she blushed, looking down and wringing her hands. Jon looked at her quizzically, then moved back, cocking his head.

"I know you don't love me that way anymore. I wasn't going to do anything."

"I know," Alanna said, not wanting to meet his gaze. "It wasn't you I was afraid of."

"You refused to marry me."

"That doesn't mean I don't love you."

The last words left her mouth as a whisper, though she could see they had hit him hard. Then, suddenly, his mouth was on hers, crashing into her, his hands holding her shoulders, bringing her to him roughly. All the hurt and anger and fear inside rushing through his lips and tongue to meet her own pain. Caught off guard it took Alanna a moment to bring her hands around his neck, touching his hair, the side of his face, his muscular back. She _knew _him. Knew the curves of his body, could trace the scars on his arms in her sleep, Knew where the hair at the back of his whorled and which way each hair went. She felt him shiver and pull away slightly, then come back. Softer, gentler this time, as if easing the pain from the lips he had bruised against his own and thus easing the pain from her heart. She pulled away and looked into his eyes, seeing an understanding that hadn't been there in the desert.

"I wouldn't make a good queen," it was hard admitting this. He didn't know how hard, how _right_ it felt to be with him the person and how _wrong_ it felt to be with him the Prince. The King.

"I know, sweet. I just needed you. I know it doesn't change anything, I don't want it too. Thayet…she will make a good queen, if she accepts."

"She will." Alanna turned to lay back in his arms, her head and back supported by his chest, wrapping his arms around her. "George asked me to marry him." She didn't know how else to say it, she hadn't meant to, not now. She felt Jon's arms tighten into a hug, his face and lips press into her hair.

"I'm happy for you, Alanna."

She could feel his lips turn into a smile, and buried the back of her head under his arm to look up at him.

"I never could imagine you settling down, getting married, having children. Even when I asked you to marry me, I didn't think of us having children." Absently his fingers brushed her throat, touching the cord binding both the ember stone and the pregnancy charm Mistress Cooper had given her so many years before.

"No children yet, Jon. I—I'm not ready to settle down that much!" Jon looked at her, amused.

"I never thought for a moment you were, Lioness." Sighing Jon sat Alanna up on her own and stood. Hesitating, he added, "I should go. Things aren't fully cleaned up yet, they'll need me. Alanna…I thought you should know…we're burying today. Liam…and Thom…you should be there."


	3. Loss

Alanna hated that the sun was shining. The sky was a bright blue, only a few wispy clouds trailing across the horizon. She wanted it to be raining, pouring. Thunder and lightning and _anger_ at the dead. Anger at Thom, for bringing Roger back. Anger at Roger, for being a better mage than her brother. Anger at Alex, for betraying Jon, betraying _her_.Anger at even the dead Roald for not disowning Roger once he was back, stripping him of titles and claim to the throne. Anger that Liam had to die, that she never got to say goodbye, tell him how much she loved him. Anger she hadn't saved Thom, hadn't called Si'cham earlier. Anger at George for not understanding, for being unable to understand, for not knowing when she wanted to be alone. At Jon for kissing her, for showing her how much _he_ understood, how much he hurt too, for being willing to hurt with her.

A hand touched her arm, breaking the scowl off her face. Gary, looking more worn and haggard than he had in days, smiled wanly and indicated the seat beside her.

"Mind?" he asked, not caring to wait for her nod before sitting heavily. The chapel was just beginning to fill, people wearing dark mourning tunics and dresses as the murmured quietly. George had come the same time as Alanna though he sat with Myles, not wanting to upset her again. Coram and Rispah sat further in the back and Alanna could feel her servant's worried gaze coming back to rest on her frequently. Refusing to look at him, she stared at the mountains of candles illuminating the front of the chapel, refusing to look at the bodies that lay behind them. She had told Jon she couldn't speak, that if she did she would start crying and a knight of Tortall couldn't cry. Not like this, in front of so many people. She barely noticed when Jonathan stood up to speak, when Sir Gareth the Elder followed, when priests stood to carry the bodies down into the flickering depths of the castle to rest forever. She followed them numbly, steered by Gary's firm hand on her elbow and watched as the stone slab was placed over her brother's body. She hardly knew what she was doing by returning back to the chapel to sit in front of the candles again.


	4. Rebirth

She didn't notice the strangers enter the chapel long after she had been left alone. She startled out of her daze when the footsteps behind her halted, three paces back. Alanna turned, eying the visitors. A young woman—looked at her shyly through eyelashes. She looked not twenty years old, and carried a sleeping child against her chest, swaddled in a wrap so he was supported by her shoulders and her arms were free to curtsy carefully. Her male companion looked to be almost Alanna's age. He bowed, refusing to look her in the eye. 

"My lady," the girl murmured. Alanna looked at her curiously, bowing back.

"Can I help you?"

"You are Alanna of Trebond. Lord Thom's sister." A statement, not a question.

"Yes."

"I—I'm Selia Draper. I'm from the City of the Gods. I came with the priests, the one for Si'cham." Alanna was surprised, and tried not to let it show. What did one from the City have to do with her?

"Are you a mage, Selia Draper?"

"Not a very good one, my lady. Lord Thom tried to teach me…this is my brother, Arram. He's a much better mage than I." The man looks at her, their dark eyes meeting in understanding. His voice was soft, with an odd lilt to it that put Alanna at ease.

"Lord Thom was my mentor for the year before he left, Sir Alanna. His death…it has shocked us all. I am truly sorry for your loss. He was like a brother to me. I came for his funeral, and to bring my sister to you."

Alanna looked at the man. He was tired, his eyes heavy with a sadness she understood only too readily. His dark hair was cropped just long enough to be pulled back in a short ponytail. So this was Thom's pupil. He had written about the younger man before. Somehow Alanna had never imagined ever meeting him, ever meeting someone who had truly known Thom, known the magic part of him that she had not been privy to. It made her sad, and suddenly unreasonable jealous, that this man should know a part of her brother that she did not. Controlling her voice took effort.

"Thom wrote about you several times, Arram. He told me he expected great things from you." Arram looked surprised, as if he could not have imagined such praise, then embarrassed. He looked at his sister, almost pointedly. The woman scuffed her toe in the rock and looked at Alanna.

"There's something you should know. Thom…well, he and I…we were lovers, before he left. I—he proposed, before he left. He said he'd come back for me, for Arram, if he wanted to come. He knew, I think, I was pregnant." Alanna looked at the child tied to Selia's front. Her eyes widened.

"Thom…had a child?" She couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe her brother, aloof as he was, had ever looked at a girl twice, let alone bedded one. Selia nodded.

"A son. A year old. She slowly unwrapped the child, who stirred briefly and opened his eyes. Purple, though flecked with the deep brown that came from his mother, stared back at Alanna. His hair was darker than Thom's had been, a fine red-brown that curled across his forehead and ears.

"What's his name?" Alanna whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from the child as she noted each of her brother's features in the boy's face.

"Calvin, my lady. I—I thought you should see him." Selia's voice broke, and Alanna looked at her, suddenly. Carefully she put her arms around mother and child and hugged them, pulling away to smile at the young boy who began to wake at the fussing.

"Can I hold him?" she whispered, hopeful. Selia nodded, and handed the child to the knight. Alanna held him carefully, brushing the hair out of his face. The child grasped her left forefinger, tugging it curiously, and Alanna ran her thumb over the boy's fingers and wrist. He laughed, eyes shining up at her. _Thom's laugh,_ she thought, wordlessly handing the boy back to Selia.

"I'll send money," she whispered. "Please, let me help. You could stay at Trebond for a while, if you need a place, or I can care for him--" her voice faltered and Selia interrupted.

"No, my lady, I don't need any favors. We do well enough on our own, it'll be alright. Maybe, when he's older he can come stay with you for a bit."

Alanna nodded.

"I—I'd like that. A lot. Do you have an address? For Midwinter, or birthday?" Selia smiled as Arram rummaged for a loose parchment and quill, producing both from a bag he carried under his arm and quickly scrawling Selia's address onto it.

"I'll be in Carthak, should you need me for any reason," he added, writing in smaller letters a second address before blowing on the ink gently and handing it to Alanna. He placed his hand on his sister's shoulder. "We should go," he said quietly. "It's a long ride home."

Alanna hugged him fiercely, fighting the tears that were threatening to spill out of her eyes again. The mage kissed her cheek before stepping back to allow Alanna to bid her nephew goodbye. The Lioness touched his small head, and kissed it before hugging and kissing Selia's cheek as well. Gripping her shoulder, Alanna looked at her

"Sister, if you ever need me, I am yours to command," she whispered. Selia's face flushed and she nodded mutely. She wrapped the baby once more around her and turned, following her brother out the chapel. At the doorway they stopped and turned, raising their hands in farewell. Alanna stared after them, not knowing that finally she was smiling.

Thom wasn't completely gone, after all.


End file.
